Self-Righteous Rejection

March 17, 1999. One year, five months, 26 days into my Harvard career—and I was a boy on the verge of a nervous breakdown. By nature, I’m a pretty calm kid. I don’t tend to take things too seriously, I don’t hold tension in my neck, I don’t confuse the forest for the trees. But in the course of 24 hours, I was knocked out.